


Deception and Forgiveness

by Sincorah



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bromance, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-03-18 06:57:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3560354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sincorah/pseuds/Sincorah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin Magic Reveal. ‘Nuff said. Possible OOC-ness, lots of angst, and a happy ending. Happy endings are amazing. That is all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Confrontation

After checking on the unconscious Arthur once more and looking over the knights, Merlin picked up Excalibur from where it had fallen from Arthur’s hand. They had come to Cenred’s abandoned castle to seek the queen after she disappeared from Camelot without a trace. It was only after Gwaine suggested they search the dilapidated place that Merlin had been able to sense dark magic. With a sinking feeling that it was Morgana, he tried to convince Arthur to move on.

The king was once again being a stubborn prat, however, and lead the way into the dark and forbidding castle with nary a glance behind him. As they made their way toward the throne room, they heard raised voices, and sped up, hurrying to see who could be here. It turned out to be Morgana and another sorcerer, and of course the Once-and-Future-King-Without-Tact went rushing in and declared that they were both under arrest. Hence the current unconscious state of all involved, minus one exasperated warlock.

A quick and pointless battle had followed, ending with Arthur and the others getting knocked out and Merlin casually using magic to knock out Morgana as the other sorcerer fled, making it appear that he had knocked out the witch when he left. Merlin just shook his head, wondering if all the common sense in the world had just magically evaporated.

Deciding it would be safer to confront the witch alone, he approached Morgana and woke her with a quiet spell. She woke up quickly and immediately attempted to use her magic, shouting a killing curse viciously. Fortunately, Merlin had placed a spell in advance to render her magic useless and she was left defenseless.

Lifting the dragon-forged sword, he demanded, “Where is Guinevere? Tell me now, Morgana!” She sneered at the warlock, and asked, “Are you really that stupid Merlin, or just mentally damaged? I am a priestess of the old religion and cannot be killed by any mortal blade.”

            Merlin, out of patience and time, just grinned with a dangerous look in his eye and gave Excalibur an experienced twirl. He may pretend to be hopeless at swordplay when ‘training’ with Arthur and the knights, but he really was quite skilled. “Probably a good thing that this is no mortal blade then, eh? It was forged in a dragon’s breath, and will kill anything, living or dead.”

For the first time real fear appeared in Morgana’s eyes, and her confidence faltered for a moment. “You’re bluffing. There is no way that could be forged in a dragon’s breath!” Holding the tip of the blade to her throat, he said in a low and dangerous voice, “Would you like to find out?”

            Morgana tried to back up, but the enraged warlock doesn’t let her. “Where. Is. Gwen?” Reluctantly, the witch finally answered. “Your precious _Queen_ is in my dungeons, and have fun trying to reach her!” Merlin stalked forward even more. “What does that mean Morgana?” She glanced behind him, stalling for time, and Merlin heard movement.

Whirling around, he observed that the sounds were merely the king and knights beginning to stir. In this brief moment of distraction, Morgana saw her chance and decided to run, saving another confrontation for a day when her magic didn’t cease to obey her.

            Merlin, although he knew it unwise, was unwilling to kill her in front of Arthur, knowing that magic would be required and he had no wish to die for imagined crimes against Camelot. He could remove the threat Morgana posed another day. Merlin hastened to the king’s side, and unobtrusively helped him to his feet.

“Arthur, after Morgana’s spell knocked you out, the other sorcerer tried to kill her. It looks like they both ran.” Arthur looked at his manservant with a ‘no-duh’ expression, and then went to check on his men. Merlin followed, and quietly informed him that Gwen would most likely be in the dungeons, if she was in the castle.

The knights were no worse for wear than a few bruises, although Sir Elyan sported a rather nasty black eye and a bloody lip. After ascertaining that there was no permanent damage, the men of Camelot hurried to the dungeons.

Guinevere was found unharmed in a cell directly across from the main dungeon door, and Arthur ran toward her, calling her name in relief. Their joy quickly turned to confusion, however, when the king could not reach the cell in which the queen is being held. No matter how far or fast he tried to run, he could get no closer to the door of the cell.

Merlin took just a moment to admire the ingenuity of this particular spell of Morgana’s, and then took great joy in quietly murmuring a counter curse to shatter it under his breath. Compliments of the hidden warlock, Arthur was able to reach his queen, and the entire party swiftly departed the old castle.

The journey back to Camelot was uneventful, and Merlin allowed himself to relax as they finally reached their home safely. Unfortunately, that safety was merely an illusion, as the warlock would soon learn.

 


	2. Accidents Happen

After safely arriving in the city, Arthur and Gwen went directly to the throne room and Merlin followed at a respectful distance. No doubt the king and queen would wish to discuss the events of Gwen’s capture. However, as soon as all three were clear of the door frame, the heavy wooden doors slammed shut behind them. The sorcerer who had been in the castle with Morgana lounged in the king’s throne, prepared to attack Arthur.

The dark sorcerer wasted no time, but immediately shouted _Forbearne_! and cast another fireball at the young king. Arthur barely managed to dodge it, and in the background he can hear Merlin yelling for Gwen to run. _Why don’t you take your own advice you fool! He is here for me!_ Arthur thought desperately, not wanting to see either his queen or his friend harmed.

As he jumped and rolled to avoid another sinister looking spell, he sees Gwen fleeing through one of the servants’ entrances. A pain in his left ankle alerts him to the fact that he has not escaped unscathed. The sorcerer raises his hand for yet another blow, and even Arthur can tell that it is unlikely he will be able to dodge yet again. Instead of cowering or trying to run, the young king stood courageously, fearlessly staring death in the face, as he wished to die in a manner befitting a knight of Camelot.

Unfortunately, the next event left him feeling quite the opposite of fearless and composed. Even as the insane sorcerer prepared his death blow, a low, guttural voice from behind Arthur barked out a strange sentence that was unmistakably another spell. Arthur tensed slightly, wondering where the other sorcerer had come from, when he saw his opponent before him reduced to ash. Turning swiftly, he was just in time to see Merlin’s hand slowly lowering and his eyes turning back to blue from the unmistakable gold of a sorcerer. “M-Merlin?” Arthur questioned weakly, not believing his eyes.

 _I am hallucinating. There is no other explanation. There is NO way MERLIN is a sorcerer. What is happening?_ Even as the king’s mind raced, he saw his friend-no, his servant’s face go pale, and he trembles slightly. Merlin stares at his king for a long moment, his heart breaking as he realizes his death is most likely upon him, and panics. Fearing for his life, he bolts, running with all the strength within him. Arthur is after him within seconds, not really thinking, just knowing somehow that _he must not get away_!

Merlin sprints through the halls of the castle, so long memorized that he doesn’t need to think, hardly needs to plan how best to escape the city. Even as he runs, he looks back, worried that Arthur may be closer than he feared, but the young warlock was very light on his feet, and could be exceedingly swift when needed. As he was failing to look where he was going, he ran headlong into a huge mass of muscle and metal, and glanced up into the startled face of Sir Percival. Merlin’s mind absently noted that Gwaine and Gwen were with him, and that they must be headed to the throne room to help Arthur.

“Merlin? Are you alright mate?” Gwaine asked, concerned, if in a hurry. Merlin just shook his head slightly and pulled away to continue his fevered sprint for freedom. Although the knights are concerned, they saw no wound on him, and realize their first duty is to ensure that the king is also unharmed. Only after they were assured of this could they seek out their friend and try to help him.

Gwaine’s voice drifted back to Merlin even as he ran, hearing his friend’s question, “In all the dangers the princess has faced, have you ever seen Merlin even think about running away?” In his panicked state, all that Merlin can think is _They’ll be coming for me now. Arthur will tell them and they will hate me. They will arrest me, and burn me at the pyre, leaving Camelot defenseless. I can’t die now, I need to protect Arthur! I need to keep them all safe!_

 

Arthur could not think, could hardly breathe with the shock of what he had seen, and only knew that if Merlin got away, he would never have answers to the endless questions fighting for dominance inside his battered mind. He sprinted down the halls, distractedly thinking _dang he’s fast. I never knew..._ He decided to put that in the ever increasing list of how much he didn’t know about the man running from him, even as he gave chase. What followed was nearly a repeat of what had happened mere seconds before.

Arthur ran so fast, he barely had time to see Gwen and two of his knights before colliding with the nearest one, Sir Gwaine. As they both crashed to the ground, Arthur caught a glimpse of Merlin disappearing around the next corner, and cursed in frustration. Ignoring the queries and exclamations of those around him, he said something along the lines of, “I’m fine. Go see to the throne room. I have something to take care of” before racing off again.


	3. Run Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I'm back! ... I would like to offer my sincerest apologies to everyone who has endured such a long wait for this chapter, but I have a good excuse! Er.. I mean, a good reason. I had this story's skeleton draft written out, and the last three chapters done, and then I went and lost all my notes, and of course finals struck with a vengeance, rendering me unable to write for a great deal of time. By the time things settled down, I had completely forgotten where I was going with this. So now I'm just sort of making it up as I go, and playing it by ear. I hope you enjoy, and sorry again for the long wait!

Breathing heavily, Merlin continued his desperate sprint out of the city, grateful that there were many people out in the middle of the day. Although they could have been in the way, a very subtle touch of magic here and there was enough to move them aside for him to get by, before closing in again to slow any pursuers. Never had he been so grateful for his ragged brown coat, as it blended in wonderfully amongst the crowd.

Behind him, he could hear the king's voice growing ever quieter as he put distance between them as swiftly as he could. He heaved a breath of relief when he cleared the main gates of the city, and then proceeded to dash off into the forest. Once he cleared the tree line, he doubled over, gasping for breath, and chanced a glance back to the city. As he caught his breath, his eyes widened in shock when he saw the young king of Camelot come tearing out of the gates on his stallion, and racing off on a side road.

_Where is he going? Why does he think I would be that way? What's?... NO! Ealdor!_ Merlin's mind went completely blank. Running entirely on instinct, and magic, he threw his head back and **_roared_** "O drakon, e mala soi ftengometh tesd'hup anankes! Erkheo!" Faced with the prospect of his mother's life being in danger, the clumsy servant disappeared entirely. Merlin the manservant was gone, replaced with Merlin the Last Dragonlord, Merlin the World's Most Powerful Sorcerer, with Emrys.

Mere minutes later, Kilgarrah glided down smoothly to their common meeting area in the clearing. "Why have you summoned me, young warlock?" his deep voice questioned, sounding somewhat concerned. Only once before had Merlin called to him with such desperation, and that was when Arthur was riding willingly to his death by the cailleach. "I need you to take me to Ealdor. Now."

The sheer _power_ emanating from the warlock was enough to make even the great dragon unsteady upon his feet. In less dire circumstances, Kilgarrah would have ensured that Merlin knew he was not a horse, but he dared not speak up now. Clearly something had unsettled the warlock enough to cause the unbridled urgency in his voice, and if the dragon could aid him, he would gladly swallow his pride and give the dragonlord his aid.

* * *

Arthur, meanwhile, allowed his body to go on autopilot, relying on well-ingrained muscle memory to keep him in the saddle as he urged his horse to maintain a gallop for as long as the hardy animal physically could. _Where is he? Where would he go? He must have gone back home. Where else would he try to run? WHY didn't he tell me? Did Hunith know? Did Gaius? What am I going to do with him?_

These thoughts, especially the last, swirled around and around in his head, leaving room for little else. His horse continued to run, the miles to Ealdor disappearing quickly beneath his mount's hooves. He rode through the night, his horse slowing to a gentle canter in the wee hours of the morning, and was plodding tiredly at a walk as he finally approached the little village.

One glance at the once-friendly villagers, however, was enough to warn him that Merlin must have already arrived. Everyone he saw glared daggers at him, and went out of their way to avoid him. One brave older man even had to temerity to yell at the young king. "Get outta here! We don't want your kind here, _your majesty_! Hunith is a good woman, and deserves better than to be falsely accused by the likes o' you!" Arthur's eyes narrowed in confusion, but he continued on his way. He knew that these were good people, and by now his youthful pride and arrogance had begun to dissipate, being replaced by the compassion and wisdom that would go on to make him one of the most famous kings Britain ever had.

At the time however, all he could do was to ignore the strange insults, and attempt to locate the mother of his missing servant. However, his hopes were quickly dashed at one glance at Hunith's home. The door swung freely, the insides completely bare. Clearly no one was home, nor did anyone intend to return any time soon. When the young king paused, clearly thrown for a loop, a young woman stopped near to his horse and glanced at him curiously.

"What business do you have in Ealdor, Arthur Pendragon? Rare indeed is the day when nobility ventures this far away from their castles and comfort. Save, of course, the day when you and a few friends of yours came with Merlin to aid us against the raiders."

Noticing that there was no great malice in the girl's eyes, only a mild dislike, the king spoke. "I seek the woman Hunith, mother of Merlin. Do you know where she has gone?" Promptly the girl shook her head.

"Nay, though I certainly would not tell you if I did. She stole nothing, and deserves not the accusations Merlin warned us of. That horse came here of its own accord, for its owner was too lazy to care for it. Merlin arrived late yesterday evening, warning us that representatives from Camelot would be coming to search for Hunith, and that she had been falsely accused of the theft. He helped her to pack, and they both disappeared early this morning. I know not where they have gone."

Arthur kept his face blank, while his sharp (sometimes) mind quickly put the pieces together. Merlin, being a sorcerer, had clearly used that whirlwind spell to come home quickly, and had come up with a story about theft to explain why he was taking his mother away. He had then moved Hunith, wanting to keep her safe, and then... what? What was his plan now? Why had he even been in Camelot in the first place? He clearly meant Arthur no harm, for even the most brilliant of strategists would have made _some_ sort of move by now. Even if there was some long and complex plot to try and do something... sinister... clearly there were ample opportunities for just about anything.

Had Merlin wished to, he had at least a dozen opportunities every single day to kill Arthur, to influence the knights, to destroy Camelot's political infrastructure; but all the sorcerer had ever done was be a second-rate servant, and the best friend anyone could hope for. None of this made sense. Magic corrupted, and the absolute power of magic corrupted absolutely. Clearly Merlin had to have a great deal of power, to have deceived Arthur and the people of Camelot for so long. Of course Arthur would have discovered Merlin's magic on the very first day if Merlin hadn't been using magic to deceive him.

Then the some of the very first words the two had exchanged came back to the king in a rush, and his eyes widened in shock. The arrogant, foolish young prince's voice, "I could take you apart with one blow." And the completely unfazed peasant's snarky reply, "I could take you apart with less than that." Arthur stood still in surprise for a moment. "He really could have" he murmured to himself.

"What's that now?" the girl questioned, her gaze sharpening again. "Nothing. I thank you for your help." She nodded shortly, and then continued on her way. The young king ran a hand through his hair in despair. How on earth was he to find Merlin now?


	4. Shocking Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha! I found my notes/chapters! It was under my brother’s bed (still no clue how it got there). Soo... Turns out I wrote Merlin a lot less BAMF than I had him last chapter, and I could rewrite this to incorporate that, but I wanted a really angsty, H/C fic here, so with that in mind, Merlin has to be a bit less BAMF. Dang. Well, for plot reasons, shall we say he was only so self confident and powerful in himself because his mother’s life was in danger, and now that she is safe, all his old fears came rushing back in? Yes? No? Too bad, that’s what I’m going with. Enjoy!

The young Pendragon was trudging back to Camelot, looking every inch as defeated as he felt. Looking for Merlin throughout all of Albion would be pointless, and the king was greatly disheartened, wondering what he even could say, should he find the missing servant-sorcerer. He was lost in his musings when a shadow, far too large to be that of any bird, passed over him, and the king gaped in shock as the dragon who was supposed to be dead flew overhead, seeming to be coming in for a landing. It took a moment, as Arthur was struck with yet another stab of betrayal from Merlin, before he took off after the beast. It would seem it had been even harder to kill than it had seemed last time, but Arthur knew he couldn’t leave it to its own devices. Who knew how many innocents it would incinerate and devour?

Fortunately, it landed a mere quarter mile away from where it had flown over the king, touching ground in a small clearing uncomfortably close to Camelot. As Arthur caught his breath, hidden in the trees just on the outskirts of the clearing, he only just stopped himself from letting out a yelp of surprise. There, right in the center of the clearing, pacing anxiously, stood his missing servant. The king clapped a gloved hand over his own mouth to keep from crying out when the beast spoke.

“I trust you will now explain why you summoned me in such a hurry that evening? What is it you have done now, Merlin?” He knows his name. Why does the dragon know Merlin’s name? Arthur wondered if there were any way his life could be turned upside down any further than it already had been in the past 72 hours.

Meanwhile, Merlin was struggling against a wave, no, not a wave, a tidal wave of panic, and at Kilgarrah’s query, he snapped. Trembling head to toe in fear and uncontrolled panic, he gasped, “Arthur... knows... He knows, Kilgarrah! He saw me with his own eyes, performing magic!” 

The dragon managed to raise a brow in a manner disturbingly similar to Gaius’ own Death Glare of Doom, and replied, “Why are you fleeing him? Has he decided to have you executed?”

“How could he do anything else? I saw the look on his face... he will never forgive me. Not for this...”

“What is there to forgive, young warlock? You have saved and protected Arthur, his queen, and his entire kingdom times beyond count.”

Merlin was shaking his head in sorrow. “He won’t see it like that. In his eyes, I am now only an evil, a curse upon his land, seeking to kill him or steal his kingdom. Even if his attitude toward magic was more friendly, I have been lying to him for years! How could he ever forgive me? How could he ever trust me again, or even stand being in the same room as me?”

The dragon looked skeptical, and disappointed at something that escaped both men within eyesight, but surprisingly changed the subject slightly. “What then do you want of me, young warlock? Will you abandon Camelot now, leaving it helpless and vulnerable to any attack of a magical nature?”

Merlin shook his head once more, looking pale but resigned. “That is part of the reason I have summoned you, my friend. I wish to place a protective enchantment over all of Camelot, so they will be safe even if I should perish. I have the knowledge of such a spell, and the raw power needed, but I need an anchor. The likelihood of me surviving much longer is slim, and if I tie the enchantment to you, the protection will remain, and not die with me.”

Kilgarrah spent several long moments gazing at the incredible young man standing before him, so willing to die for his imagined crimes against his best friend, now that his mother was safely out of Camelot’s reach. Finally, the creature nodded. “Very well. Do what you must, Merlin, but know that I do not agree with your assessment of the young Pendragon.”

He cocked his head slightly then, and asked, “Where will you go, young warlock?” Merlin smiled sadly. “There are many empty caves beyond the outskirts of the city. I will dwell in them for as long as I remain alive. At least if I am nearby, perhaps I could still see Gaius when he comes out to gather herbs...” he paused, regaining what little composure he could dredge up, and then continued. “I will also be nearby should Morgana launch an attack before my time.”  
Solemnly, the dragon replied, “It could mean your life, Merlin.”

His eyes shining suddenly with a surety, passion, and drive that had been absent since he had caught sight of his king gazing at him in shock and betrayal several days ago, the warlock replied fervently. “If by my life, or death, I can aid Arthur in any way, I shall. His life is worth a hundred of mine, and I would gladly give my life that his may remain.”

Arthur, still hiding in the trees, discovered that, yes, his life could indeed be upturned even more. He physically stumbled from such a sincere pledge of loyalty from one who had every reason to only hate and fear him, and the young king suddenly realized that no matter what Merlin was, he was no traitor. He watched numbly as Merlin bade the dragon farewell, swearing to activate the protection spell the moment he believed himself in danger.

Merlin then turned and traveled a short distance until he was nearly within sight of the main gates of the city, but remained within the cover of the forest until he found what he was looking for, a small cave that was well hidden and yet within a fifteen minute sprint to the castle. He gathered a few small, dry sticks that would give off very little smoke, that could be concealed by the rapidly arriving darkness of night, and built a small fire just outside the mouth of the cave. Scarcely had the man seated himself near to the fire, than the stress and fear of the last several days came washing over him with a vengeance, and he collapsed from exhaustion, entirely unaware of the golden-haired king watching him from a short distance away.


	5. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know many of you were hoping for a longer story, with multiple chapters, but I had originally planned it to be only a one-shot, which turned into a two-shot, and now has five chapters. However, this is how I wrote it, but apologies if you were hoping for more. Perhaps someday in the future I will manage to actually write a long-ish story about Merlin, but it is not this day! I hope you have enjoyed reading this story! I sure have had fun writing it!

Arthur waited until he was certain Merlin was completely asleep, before approaching the fire and sleeping servant in complete silence. He looked down at the raven-haired man for a long moment, before stepping beside him to slide into a sitting position leant against the rocky wall of the cave opposite to Merlin, and contemplated just what exactly had happened to lead his life to this point. After nearly an hour, the warlock's unconscious finally seems to become aware that something is _not quite right_ , and he began to stir.

Merlin blinked blearily, looking with some confusion upon the king before realizing that, no, this was not just another pointless hunting trip with Arthur. It took his sleep-muddled mind a moment to recall what exactly had happened over the course of the last several days, yet the instant it caught up to him, he was on his feet. Glancing to the entrance of the cave, he calculated his chances of reaching it before Arthur did, and then decided to try for it anyway.

The warlock bolted, but the king was on him before he could take two steps. Arthur tackled him easily and pinned him swiftly. Merlin allowed his body to go limp, and managed to rasp, "Please..."

Arthur's weight, combined with his own overwhelming fear made it difficult for the warlock to draw sufficient breath to speak. The king eased up a bit, allowing his captive to breathe easier. Merlin closed his eyes and activated the protection spell, tying it quickly to Kilgarrah's life force, before opening his eyes to speak with his king once more.

"Please, Sire," he whispered desperately. "Please make it swift. Don't drag me back to Camelot to burn, I don't want Gaius to have to witness that... Please..." he trailed off and tried to steel himself for the death blow. Being Emrys had many perks, one of which was that no mortal blade could end his life, rather like Morgana. Unfortunately, Arthur just so happened to wield Excalibur, the blade Merlin himself had convinced Kilgarrah to forge in his breath for the king.

Thus, Merlin was under no delusions that had him surviving this encounter. He could only hope Arthur had enough mercy within his heart to make his treacherous servant's death swift and relatively painless. The next words from the king stopped his heart for a moment.

"No" Arthur stated, his voice firm and brooking no room for argument. He rolled to the side, permitting Merlin to sit up if he so desired. Merlin's eyes shot open, pleading and fearful. " _Please_ , Arthur, don't do this!" Arthur's eyes narrowed, and Merlin froze in place. In a low, deadly tone, Arthur nearly snarled, "I said ' ** _no'_** , Merlin. You **will** return to Camelot with me."

At this, all hope fled Merlin's heart, and he bowed his head in abject despair. The king had not finished speaking, however, and his next words caused the warlock's head to shoot up once more. "You will return to Camelot with me, and there we can discuss your new position." Merlin was certain that he had misheard.

"M-My new p-position, Sire?"

The king grinned. "Well, I can't just keep a dragonlord sorcerer as my manservant, now can I?"

Merlin could only stare at him in blind shock. Arthur reached over to give him a friendly shove, but when Merlin flinched away, the king flung his head back in exasperation. "Oh for the love of- _Mer_ lin! I am not going to kill you! I will not have you executed, I will not have you imprisoned, or banished, or even thrown in the stocks!" He dropped his gaze for a moment, then looked into his friend's eyes earnestly, pleading with him to believe his words.

"I am not my father, Merlin. Heaven knows how many times you have tried to convince me of that. Please, believe me now. I won't, I _can't_ , kill my best friend. How could you be a traitor, or deserving of death in any way? I have no idea how many times you have saved my life, and my kingdom, but I would wager it comes close to the number of taverns Gwaine has found his way into over the course of his very alcohol-oriented life."

Merlin couldn't help but chuckle along with Arthur at that, though the laughter quickly turned to heart-wrenching sobs as he tried to comprehend this latest turn of events. Arthur hesitantly and awkwardly put an arm around his shoulders and tried to comfort him after a time. "Come on, Merlin, it's not that bad. I know it must be hard to learn to learn that you will be forced to lose the amazing and honorable job of washing my socks, but you will survive, I am certain." They both grinned rather shakily at that, and, encouraged, Arthur continued. "After all, Camelot's first Court Sorcerer shouldn't be crying over his promotion!"

Merlin's smile grew wider, and he gained his composure back swiftly. In the sincerest and most grateful tone Arthur had ever heard Merlin use in proximity to him, the warlock said but two words. "Thank you."

The king ruffled his friend's hair affectionately, then pulled him into a brotherly hug, speaking fervently as he did so. "I believe it is _I_ who should be thanking _you_ , my friend."


End file.
